


embrasse la nuit sur ses lèvres

by amako



Series: ShikaSakuWeek Hanami 2020 [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hokage Haruno Sakura, Kirigakure | Hidden Mist Village, Loss of Virginity, Mild Smut, Non-Penetrative Sex, Safeword Use, Safewords, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, better have 'em and not use them than the opposite, cause it's me, discussion of consent, nothing kinky but they're being careful, sex positive asexual, this is really not graphic, trans Nara Shikamaru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amako/pseuds/amako
Summary: “I'm a virgin,” he blurts out.“...what?”ora first time, whispered love and shivering bodies, and an exploration of alternative sexualities.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Nara Shikamaru
Series: ShikaSakuWeek Hanami 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679485
Comments: 7
Kudos: 84
Collections: ShikaSaku Hanami 2020, mako's favourites





	embrasse la nuit sur ses lèvres

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 of ShikaSaku Week Hanami 2020  
> Prompt 2: embrasse la nuit sur ses lèvres (kiss the night on her lips)
> 
> This is a continuation of day 2's story and it won't make a bit of sense without it.
> 
> Wow this is late. And it's not even going to be the latest, since I'm actually still in the process of writing for this ShikaSaku Week. But I had a lot of internet problems and not access to any network, plus some personal stuff at home, so better late than never I guess. This is freakishly long for a challenge fic, so I didn't find the heart to comb through it for mistakes, sorry in advance.
> 
> I hold this story extremely close to my heart because it resonates with me a lot, given that I share identities with both characters, so I'm going to make an unusual request, given that I usually don't care: if all you want to say is negative, even if it's concrit, I'd rather you say nothing at all. Even if your comment is half positives, half negatives, then drop the second half. I don't want to read it. Let's be kind, yeah? If you don't like it, there are hundreds of thousands of other works out there for you.

Shikamaru wakes up abruptly, sweating like a pig with his heart beating like a batucada. Chest heaving, he wipes the sweat off his brow, trying to get his breathing under control. He feels hot all over, and a bit gross, but mostly, he's turned on like a horny teenager. He can still _feel_ the dream on his skin, the lips caressing his shoulders, his throat, the hands roaming all over his body, the head going down, down, his hand knotted in loose, silky hair until a mouth closes around—

Shikamaru freezes. Slowly, unbearably slowly, he looks down his naked chest (and he still feels warm inside when he sees the absence of scars), past the sheets bunched up around his waist but leaving his lower half exposed. In his boxers, he's hard.

Almost scrambling to release himself from the sheets, he hooks two fingers under the waistband of his underwear and slides it right off, sending them flying with one shot of his right foot. Staring at it like a curious artefact in a museum, he studies his morning wood.

It's thicker than he expected, if anything. It's weird, he doesn't feel much from it, just the air brushing lightly on his skin and even that isn't such a strong feedback. Maybe he misunderstood, but whenever the other guys talked about it, he always thought having an erection was this wildly uncontrollable thing, this overwhelming pile of sensations and feelings that you absolutely had to take care of.

Not that it wouldn't feel nice. There is this nudging sensation, definitely, this strong urge to _touch_ , but it doesn't feel like he would die if he didn't, either. Experimentally, he runs one finger from bottom to top, and _yup_ , alright, he can definitely understand what the others meant. Again, he wouldn't feel like the world would collapse if he simply stood up and went about his day, but this absolutely feels amazing.

Unfortunately, Shikamaru doesn't have time to take care of this. He has a meeting in two hours and he woke up from his very, very nice dream just a few minutes before his alarm. With one look to his clock, he decides that he can afford a few more minutes of exploration. Carefully, he wraps one hand at the bottom, squeezing lightly. His head shoots back, exposing his neck as he moans, a drawn-out sound of pure pleasure. He squeezes a bit harder, pleasure shooting up and down now, and that's his queue to stop before he makes a mess.

With his other hand, he touches the tip, circling around the head gently, cataloging all the sensations for his genius brain to dissect later, to find what feels the best and devise a hypothesis for the best way to give himself a handjob. He caresses underneath, and on top, around the base and where the skin of his groin attaches to the cock.

Another look to the clock, and he abandons his exploration. He jumps out of his futon and into the underwear waiting for him on the chair next to the clothes he prepared the night before. Shikamaru finds that he has no issues closing his pants and quick enough, he realizes that his erection doesn't last as soon as he stops focusing on it. While he brushes his hair and braids it, his new look to accommodate for his far longer hair that he hasn't decided if he wants to cut yet, his dick politely goes back to its normal state.

As he looks at himself in the mirror, Shikamaru can't help the shit-eating grin plastered on his face. The healing wasn't really long or painful, but his own impatience was the worst part of it all. The surgery happened two weeks ago, and before that, while Sakura was researching everything she needed to make sure there would be no complications, Shikamaru was taking his shots again and his bleeding thankfully stopped.

He feels much better now, and not just because of the surgery. The moon blessing returning had truly taken a toll on him, in a way he hadn't expected. He thought, when he realizes he wouldn't have enough shots to even see the end of the war, that it wouldn't really matter to him. They were at war, and the morale was low enough that he hadn't expected it to hit him as hard as it did, especially because he wasn't actually bleeding.

At the beginning of the fighting, Sakura and Shizune had spent days manufacturing pills that would entirely stop the bleeding of those blessed by the moon as long as they took it. The Zetsu were capable of smelling blood and the pain and emotional shifts were a true liability to the people in the field and their comrades. On top of that, one of the things that _did_ help make the days a little less bleak, a little less horrible after your seventh friend died in your arms, was the fucking.

Tsunade had been very clear. All fucking has the blessing of the Hokage herself. In the camps they set up, there was a space just for that, with about twenty tents set up just far enough apart from each other that you wouldn't hear the noises. It wasn't fancy, but it was dry, comfortable and warm enough, with blankets and lube and, refilled every day, a basket with three different bottles.

One contained the moon pills, stopping the bleeding, the emotional shifts, the abdominal pain, the internal pain and the sensitive skin. Another was a little help to get people started, because the fucking was great emotional help when you needed to forget, or you needed a warm pair of arms to feel less alone, but they were still in a war and no matter what you have between your legs, some people had a hard time getting into it. So they were basically mild aphrodisiacs, and an absolute blessing to the people taking them. The last pills were for the diseases, killing them as soon as they entered the blood stream or the cells.

All in all, in that basket was governmental permission to fuck like rabbits without risking kids, bleeding, pain, diseases or performance issues. And they provided Shikamaru with the means to be _just_ miserable instead on bordering on suicidal, without having to come out to anyone.

Everyone had a turn in the tents. So much that it wasn't anything shameful or hidden, people would just stand up and leave, or unashamedly ask someone passing by if they had half-an-hour free. It became so common that people who never talked before would go together, couples would invite others, friends who never considered each other before would enjoy the trust and familiarity they already had, but in a more intimate setting. In Shikamaru's opinion, it was a great idea. It kept everyone relatively happy and helped relations between fighters, trust in general, and kept morale high enough not to have soldiers committing suicide left and right.

He never went because he didn't want to have problems with the people he loved if they found out his secret and they weren't okay with it. The one exception had been, surprisingly, Lee.

It was the middle of the night and Shikamaru was finally coming out of a meeting with Tsunade, Kakashi, Tsume and Sakura, to plan an attack with the Inuzuka dogs. It had taken hours, he was exhausted, mentally and emotionally, but to wired to go to sleep. He had wondered around camp for a few minutes, checking in on where his friends were sleeping, taking a look inside the children's tent in the civilian “district” they had built with what they had left, centered around the kitchen tent.

Eventually, as he admitted defeat and turned back to walk to his own tent, he had crossed paths with Lee. The man look just as wired up as Shikamaru had been, pacing back and forth in the middle of camp, fists so tight his knuckles were white, shoulders tense and high around his ears, looking like he was ready to explode.

Shikamaru had immediately come to him. If the war had done one thing for them all, it had been to tighten the bonds that already existed inside their promotion. There was no way he wasn't going to check on a friend, looking like _that_ in the middle of the night. He had barely spoken Lee's name that the man had turned around, eyes a bit wild, his entire body a bundle of nerves and frustration, seething anger barely hiding concern.

Lee had taken one look at Shikamaru, tired but still wanting to help a friend any way he could, and he had offered to take Shikamaru to the tents. It had taken him aback so much that Shikamaru had found himself accepting. Only when they'd been on their way to a third kiss, hands roaming underneath each other's clothes, had he realized what was happening and that no one in the Konoha 12 knew about his secret.

But Lee had kissed him again, and Shikamaru was tired and he was hurting so much inside, he felt so miserable with his shots running out and the war not looking like it was ever going to end. So he hadn't said anything, and when Lee had noticed, he hadn't said anything either, stopping when he realized Shikamaru was freaking out. Instead, Lee had offered to simply sleep with one another, their naked skin warm and safe, and Shikamaru had said yes. He had one of the best nights of his life, in the strange, casual intimacy of a tent in the middle of a clearing, arms wrapped around Lee's warm body and torso covered by a shirt.

As happy as he had been then, he's more than glad to be done with everything, to be at the end of his personal journey. The surgery happened without a hitch and the healing was smooth, between the creams and Sakura's healing hands, something that he got used to surprisingly easily despite the sheer embarrassment of it at first. It definitely helps to be dating your surgeon, but still. He's not yet used to have something between his legs that responds to stimuli, even if, during the healing period, it wasn't exactly functioning in terms of arousal.

But for the first time now, Shikamaru has proof that he can get an erection, and as he walks to his job in the office under Sakura's house, he doesn't know how to explain just how giddy he feels. How complete. How normal.

It's the best feeling in the world.

* * *

“Tadaima!” he shouts as he slides the door close behind him, adjusting his socks slightly after leaving his shoes behind.

He can hear the smile in her voice as she shouts back “Okaeri!” from the newly finished kotatsu room.

He walks inside, the tatami soft and pliable under the sole of his feet. Sakura is sitting, legs under the blanket of the kotatsu, reading a book on charging seal-amulets. In front of her, two matching bowls of plain rice and five small dishes still warm from the kitchen, and his heart fills with love. He bends forward to kiss the top of her head, before going around the kotatsu to sit in front of her.

Shikamaru slides his legs next to hers, gently touching her thigh with his toes. She gives him a loving smile, taking his hand and squeezing it once before letting go to reach for her chopsticks.

“How was your day?” he asks, reaching for a few fried shrimps with his chopsticks.

“Great, actually!” her smile is contagious, and he finds himself grinning as well. “The Academy is set to open next month, the two Kiri boys I'm training are promising, so that means I shouldn't have as many responsibilities in the House of Health anymore. Mei-sama is pleased with the progress, she invited me for tea and she said she's glad she took us in after the war. Kiri's economy is doing better than ever and the medical program is doing great with the civilians, everyone is telling her how happy they are with it and to thank us.”

Shikamaru raises his eyebrows, impressed. “That's great news indeed! Congratulations, Sakura,” he tells her with a sincere, loving smile. “You're really doing great, you know that? I can't think of a better Hokage.”

She shrugs, looking down. “I'm not so sure, but it's the will of the people. Shishō sent me a hawk, to tell me she was proud of me. It's hard to believe I'm here, you know?”

“I know. You will eventually, though,” he tells her, reassuring. “In my eyes, there is no one better. And you're actually responsible for the best day of my life.”

“Oh?” She's curious, he can see it, and that makes it all the more exciting. He feels like a schoolboy with his first good grade.

“It's going to sound weird, alright? But this morning, I woke up with an erection and I don't think I've ever felt this happy in my entire life.”

Sakura looks at him, frozen in place with her mouth slightly open. Before he can say anything, there is a blur in the air between them and leaves fly everywhere as she shunshins forward, barging into his arms and knocking him over. He lands on his back, hard, arms full of shrieking girlfriend. He laughs, happy and free, not caring for the moisture in his eyes. He hugs her as close as he can, basking in the love and attention, Sakura peppering his entire face with kisses, lingering on his eyelids, his nose, full of joy for him.

Her cheeks are pink and her grin wide, she brushes her nose against his, both blushing from happiness and love. His heart is beating wild, and he feels it again, this warmth from this morning when he woke up, still feeling her dream lips on his shoulders. He swallows hard, not daring to close his eyes. In one strong move, he rolls them over, staring into her beautiful, green eyes from above.

Leaning down, he bites her jaw gently, nibbling at her ear. She sighs, content, her hands caressing his back, sliding under his shirt to keep going against his skin. The warmth he feels spreads, to his cheeks and his stomach, then below. He can feel himself growing against her, and isn't _that_ a rush? He has something to grow, something that feels like him, a _part of him_.

Sakura shifts, notices, feels him against her. He gives her a sheepish smile, but doesn't move. They've been on several dates, they've slept in the same futon on most nights, but for evident reasons, they hadn't done anything while he was healing. Or, what Shikamaru thought were apparent reasons.

Because as Sakura catches on to what's happening and Shikamaru's silent want, she freezes underneath him. He almost instantly begins to feel cold inside. A sense of dread, a wariness that maybe she doesn't really want him, that he was just a test subject, that she preferred what he had before better but never told him.

His smile drops off his face and he begins to slide off. Before he can fully remove himself from her and the situation, she grabs his waist and keeps him on top of her.

“I need to tell you something,” she says, serious as a grave, her voice quiet. He knows he's freaking out, but he can only fear the worst. “I don't do sex.”

That catches him entirely off guard. He truly wasn't expecting that. Cautiously, he slowly relaxes, realizing she isn't about to leave him for a woman or something. But that doesn't make this situation any either. He knows about genders and sexualities, and what Sakura is describing herself as (he can guess, at least). He has no problems with that, that'd make him one hell of a hypocrite. But...

He's disappointed.

He feels like the worst person in the world just for thinking that, but he can't control the drop in his stomach, the twist that tells him he's missing out, that reminds him he never got to experience anything like this and if he stays with her, _he never will_.

And now he feels like a garbage human being for even considering leaving her for this.

Sakura must have read something on his face that clues her in, because she flinches away from him, even pinned like she is, hurt and taken aback, and he sees the exact moment she closes herself off.

“I'm sorry,” she says. She swallows, and he feels even worse that she's apologizing. Before he can stutter through an explanation, a way to salvage this disaster of a conversation, she speaks again. “We're still- this is still a young relationship. If you want a break up, it's not like we live together or anything, so it shouldn't be too hard to separate our lives.”

That hits him right in the stomach and shakes him up enough to answer, in a blind panic. “ _No!_ No, fuck, I'm sorry. Sakura, I promise, I don't want to break up with you.”

She sighs. “Don't lie, Shikamaru. You're disappointed, I can see it. It's not the first time someone is leaving me because they don't want to have to go without sex, trust me, I can tell.”

“I'm a virgin,” he blurts out, terrified at the idea that she might think he likes sex better than her, when he's head over heel for her.

“...what? No, you're kidding me.”

He shakes his head. “I'm not. I didn't want anyone to know about this, and the one time I did try, I freaked out and we did nothing until he left the next morning.”

He sits up, allowing her to sit as well, facing him. Shikamaru looks down, biting his lower lip.

“I'm sorry, I got excited. I'm so happy to be as I am now, in a body I like, and I was looking forward to be with you. And yes, I was disappointed, I'm not going to lie to your face. But it wasn't about you, disappointed _in_ you. It's just...” He sighs, ashamed of his own feelings. “I guess I'm disappointed that I'll never get to experience it, to know it for myself. That's all.”

Sakura watches him, studying him silently. She's serious, taking everything he says into consideration and giving it the respect and thought it deserves. He knows, looking at her right now, while they're figuring out the first hurdle of their relationship, that he is in love.

“Okay.” She gets this determined look on her face, that makes his heart miss a beat at how awe-inspiring she looks sometimes. She gets on her feet, offering a hand to him that he takes without question, getting up as well with her help. “Alright, we can work with this.”

They're standing facing each other, in the warm kotatsu room. Shikamaru is awkward in the silence, but Sakura tilts her head to the side slightly, a gives him a smile that makes him hope, _hope_ , that perhaps she might just love him as much as he loves her.

“We're going to have sex,” Sakura says, serious enough that Shikamaru instantly knows she's not pulling an elaborate prank on him.

“Sakura, I... you literally just came out to me, and you expect me to just jump into bed with you and disregard the fact that you don't want to have sex?”

She makes a sort of humming noise in consideration. “I'm trying to explain this in a way that makes sense. I'm not sex-repulsed. I'm more on the sex-neutral side of things. I don't find it interesting, but it's not really doing anything negative for me either. But, here's the thing,” she continues, raising a hand to his cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw, “I love you,” she says, like it's the easiest thing in the world, like he hasn't been worrying over it repeatedly.

Shikamaru swallows, incapable of looking anywhere but into the vastness of her eyes, all of her honesty on display in such a genuine manner that he can't even begin to doubt her. He raises his hand to lay on top of hers where it's still caressing his cheek. He leans into her touch, heart beating too fast.

“I love you so much, and I want to give you this. What's important to me, is that you understand that I'm not going to do that every day. This is my gift to you, because I want you to be happy. I want you to explore your body, and what it can do, and the pleasure it can bring you.”

The look she gives him dries his mouth and he suddenly feels warm all over. She leans into his space, close enough that he feels her breath on the baby hair of his cheekbone, close enough that he can smell the incense she burnt this morning on her hair, close enough that when her mouth brushes against his as she speaks, he can taste the lingering grenadine on her lips.

“I want to be the one to bring that pleasure to you.” _And it's the fucking sexiest thing that's ever happened to him._

“You, making sure that I'm consenting to this, even after you admitted to me that you were disappointed you would never get to experience your new body with me, is the goddamn sexiest thing that's ever happened to me. And I don't _give a fuck_ about sexy, so that's saying something.”

He nods dumbly for no other reason that he's absolutely lost on the protocol of that sort of things, being, you know, a virgin and all. She's still close enough for him to only have to breathe a bit harder to connect their lips, and she takes the lead soon after, to his relief.

“Are you-” He's not sure how to say it, but so far clear words and honesty have seemed to be their safest bet, so that's what he does. “Are you a virgin too?”

Sakura's face turns sombre. “Some people can't take no for an answer,” she says through gritted teeth. Her words turn Shikamaru's blood into ice. “And I also did have consensual sex a couple of times before figuring out that my lack of interested wasn't anything wrong with me.”

“Nothing's wrong with you,” he growls, seething at the idea that anyone took what wasn't offered, and that she was made to feel like her sense of self wasn't deserving of respect.

Her smile is bright like the summer sun, and it melts the ice in his veins, leaving only warmth behind.

At some point, Shikamaru lost track of things, through the kissing and touching and the not believing his luck. He's not certain how he got there, but somehow Sakura is sitting on the futon, back against the wall, and he's sitting in her lap, knees bracketing her thighs, as she peppers kisses all over his face.

He can feel the blush covering his chest and warming his cheeks, even as she kisses his chin one last time before putting some distance between them.

“We need to talk about what's going to happen.”

He groans, hiding his face in her neck. He's never been smooth with romantic partners, and uncomfortable enough with the idea of intimacy that he postponed it for as long as he felt like he needed it. “You know very well that we can't just pretend like we're not a ticking time-bomb of issues just waiting to happen, hum?” She smiles to soften her words, but he has to agree with her, so he leans back a little to look at her.

“What do you have in mind?”

She tilts her head to the side. “Well, first of all, tell me about your boundaries. Is there anything I can't touch, anything you don't want to talk about, stuff I need to know?”

He gives it a second but his answer is obvious. “To be honest, not really. This did change a lot of things for me. I'm not saying it won't ever come back, but I'm good.”

Her smile is the most blinding thing he's seen in a long time, and it warms something essential inside of him, something that feels like completion.

“Tell me as we go, yeah? If anything feels uncomfortable, if you want me to stop touching, just say the word.”

He nods lightly. “What about you?”

Despite himself, Shikamaru is curious. He wonders if there are things she likes despite not being sexual, or if she doesn't really enjoys anything but there are things she tolerates more than others. His scientific brain finds it fascinating and he almost wants to dissect this thing, to understand it better.

“I can't handle being held down, or restrained. Not only hard restraints, like actuals bonds or physically holding me down, but even wrapping your hands around my wrists or pushing my legs or hips down to immobilize me. I can't deal with that.”

The nausea creeps up on him so he nods quickly, the unease quickly winning the battle over his stomach.

“I'd rather not you touch me beneath the waist.” Sakura grimaces. “If you really have to, I guess it's okay, but-”

“It's not, though,” he says softly, reaching to hold her hand gently. He sees the bobbing of her throat as she swallows and eventually nods her head as well. “I could put something between us so that we don't touch by accident, how's that?”

Sakura hums, visibly relieved. “Maybe I could stay on top so that I have more control over what's happening.”

Shikamaru feels his heart race against his chest, almost tasting the memories before he shoves them right back down. “Let's- let's not do that.” Sakura gives him a heavy look but doesn't comment, instead leading into another question.

“Do you want a signal or something special to stop if things are too much?” Shikamaru squints, pondering her suggestion, scenarios already unravelling in his head to pick apart how useful that'd be.

“Nonverbal maybe? Just in case. Do you have issues with your hair?” When she shakes her head, he continues “then something like tugging once for stop what you're doing and do something else instead, and tugging twice to stop entirely?”

“That's a good idea, yeah. Tugging on each other's hair, right?” she says, reaching for his ponytail with a mischievous look on her face, laughing when he ducks awkwardly and finds himself half-sprawled on the futon.

For a second, he had forgotten he was sitting in her lap and that his balance was half his leg muscles and half Sakura's arms around his waist. As she attacks relentlessly, trying to get to his ponytail, he falls back, fighting against his own knees to detangle his legs from around her lap. She's laughing, loud and bright, so what can he do but laugh as well, catching her as she reaches for his hair one more time until she's spread like a starfish over his torso, her nose brushing against his, eyes still shining with mirth.

“Hello, Hokage-sama,” he whispers into the silence between them, heavy with love and laughter and promises, giddy with trust and excitement.

The following kiss is sweet and short, soon leading into peppered kisses all over her face. After a while, she snorts in laughter, echo of her ticklish skin where he just left the memory of a kiss, and she blows hot air into his face until he stops teasing her. His heart is beating wild and his face hurts from the smiling and the laughing and maybe he's going a bit crazy with it all because she's looking more godly by the minute and he doesn't even give a shit.

Sitting up on his hips, legs bracketing his own, she looks like a deity of brute strength, her hard muscles outlined in the setting sun shining through the window, like the backdrop of the most spectacular painting he's ever seen. _His Hokage._

Quick and precise, steady hands like this is a surgery, she grabs the back of her shirt and drags it over her head, taking it off and throwing it away in one smooth movement. He swallows hard at the sight of her naked body, almost unsure of his place under her, like this isn't meant for him, like she isn't giving him the greatest gift of trust by sharing this with him and putting in his hands her well-being and the respect of what she doesn't want.

“Shikamaru,” she says softly, dragging him away from his thoughts. “You can touch me,” she smiles, endeared and yet, yet he can see the jump in her upper lip, the tense line in her nape, the only signs she'll ever show that this is unsettling to her. He's not sure if he's the problem, or what they're doing, but he refuses to have her anything but comfortable with him, so he complies, hoping that'll help her relax.

His hands were never made for surgery, so they shake, how they shake when he lays feverish fingers over her skin, knuckles brushing her ribs like a shiver. He doesn't make a move for her underwear. She puts her own hands over his, firm and certain of this, at least, of them, here.

Shikamaru's throat is dry and at this point he's lost count how many time he's had to swallow but how can he count when in her eyes, they're multitude, all the versions of them they've been until this point in time, her genin years screaming in silence for someone, anyone to notice her pain, his chūnin promotion, too soon, too young, crying against her shoulder as she rocks him, knees in the mud and gore, guts splattered against her cheeks as it reeks of war and loss.

He never wants this to stop. He never wants _them_ to stop. Oh, Spirits, may they never be over.

He's growing hard, the sensation still so novel he questions for a moment what he's even feeling, before it comes back to him, joyful and unbelieving, that this is his body now, that this is how it can work if he wants it to. As if reading his thoughts, Sakura draws a line across his chest, parallel to scars now long gone, thanks to those same fingers that she soon replaces with her lips.

There's no mistaking the feeling now, low in his stomach, the tension and heat in a place where it used to feel as disgusting as it felt different to _this,_ this pulse. Quiet, he rediscovers his body, one breath at a time.

For a second, he looses himself in her eyes, green piercing from under her eyelashes, her face still close to his chest. Even with his chin touching his collarbone, he can barely see her, but she's not loosing a second of the realization of going through his own body and _finally_ not finding it lacking. There's no way she's not noticing what's going on in his pants, but she doesn't look uncomfortable.

She hums, low enough that it rumbles into his chest, vibrating against his heart, before she sits up again, rocking her hips once. The touch is electrifying and he's shot into a sitting position, a groan torn out of his throat as he looks at her with blown-wide eyes, his nose close enough to touch hers.

He's breathless, suddenly, but her smile is neither teasing nor knowing, just gentle, accepting that he has everything to rediscover and willing to help him make it happen.

Sakura cups his face, kind and strong, with eyes full of promises for the future, an invitation to help her build this new Konoha inside Kiri's walls.

“I love you so much,” she murmurs against his lip, a small sigh escaping her mouth when he closes his eyes reverently and kisses her.

Shikamaru wraps his arms around her body, tight and strong, unwilling to let go for even a second. He feels the muscles in her back relaxing, her posture slouching slightly, like his embrace was the last thing she was waiting for to finally feel comfortable.

She notices his pause

(she always notices, everything about him, his body and mind a puzzle for her to solve, her focus never solely on him or her work, but divided fairly)

and the tips of her thumbs caress lightly his jaw, his cheeks, stilling between the corners of his eyes and his hairline. Arms wrapped around her back, he's looking up into her eyes, her own face tilted down as she holds his in her hands like he's something precious. He's not sure he remembers what it feels like to love himself the way she seems to love him. He's not sure he ever knew how.

“I'm the Nanadaime Hokage, and I'm really fucking strong,” she says with a serious tone, “I should have nothing to fear, you know? But I do. I'm afraid. Too often, for the leader of a nation.” Not unkindly, Sakura shushes him when he tries to defend her against her own words. “But you're the strongest person I know,” she continues, “and when you hold me, I feel safe like I've never felt safe before.”

Her voice cracks, her mouth closing almost too fast, and Shikamaru watches her as she looks away, something like shame painted on the fabric of her face. He's never been good with words, no matter how smart he is. He's a genius tactician, a master of his own mind and a god when he plays with the mind of others. But he doesn't know how to put fears to rest, how to deal with what hurts and what weights heavy on the soul. He never recovered from Asuma's death, burying it instead under a pile of issues that turned into a mountain when he lost his dad.

Shikamaru doesn't know how to deal with Sakura's fears. But maybe he doesn't need to know how. Maybe he's enough as he is. He hopes so.

So instead, he tightens his hold on her, drawing her closer so her can put his chin on her shoulder, shivering when the shift pushes her against his erection, shivering when she hides her face in his neck, shivering when she presses one, two, three feather-like kisses on the beating pulse under his skin.

Sakura's arms wrap around his shoulders, closing their embrace into something like a hug but more, like a cage without a lock, open enough to be a choice and a promise at the same time. Slowly, he leans back, until he's resting against the wall, so comfortable he could almost stay there for ever. Almost. Because that's when Sakura decides to rock against his lap again.

This time, the tremor coursing through his body is contained between her arms and the wall, Sakura swallowing his groan with a pressing kiss. She doesn't stop at one, instead finding a rhythm that has him writhing against her, shaking from head to toe in her arms. She's kissing him relentlessly, burying his moans under kisses and whispers, until sweat starts beading on his temples. She breaks their kiss, then something cold on his cheek surprises him, realizing that this is her tongue, drifting, barely present, along his jaw and up, until she licks the first drop of sweat that rolls down.

The moan she draws out of him with that is loud enough to surprise himself. She leans back a bit, enough to send him a proud, happy grin, delighted for him that he's enjoying himself and the body she forged for him.

Shikamaru can feel the moisture on the fabric of his underwear, uncomfortable despite the pleasure from the friction, enough to distract him a little, which Sakura notices almost immediately. He can't help himself from laughing a little when he sees her quietly disgruntled face. She grimaces apologetically.

“I'm sorry. I always found it a bit disgusting.”

He snorts, amused. “I don't mind, Sakura. I'm not offended. I didn't have one a few months back, I can hardly judge.”

She gives him an amused, relieved smile, kissing him hard enough to bruise in response.

“Time to whip out the pillow?” he asks half-jokingly, but fully prepared to draw the line there and whip out the damn pillow if it makes her more comfortable.

She shakes her head. “I'm good, for now, but can we switch positions so I don't have to feel it?”

Shikamaru shrugs. “Whatever you want, but you'll know better than I what our options are. I'm a bit clueless, if I'm honest.”

She nods with a falsely-wise expression. “Of course, Nara-sama, what humble disposition you have. How respectable of you.”

He smirks, shoving her off of him despite her outraged cry, wincing a bit when she looses her balance and drops on the tatami like a flailing potato. With some quick thinking, he's able to take his underwear off and replace it with a his pillow strategically placed before she can put herself back together and on the futon. Sakura blinks, a bit surprised, but the grateful smile she gives him is all the thanks he needs. Neither make any mention of her own underwear.

“How do you want to do this?” she asks, head tilted to the side and legs crossed. For the probably tenth time this evening, he finds himself choking up on the emotions this brave, strong woman bring out in him. _Kojika-sama, protect her. Give her strength. She deserves it._

“Man, how troublesome can you be,” he teases, flicking the tip of her nose with his fingers. “You're in charge here, woman, isn't it how it works?”

She laughs. “You lazy piece of shit,” she shouts, kicking him in the shin with her heel. He smirks, hardly able to contain the giggles that seem to burst out of him.

“Fine, asshole.” Sakura falls on all four, slowly coming closer. Suddenly, he doesn't find this so funny anymore, eyes wide as he watches her, his heart beating hard enough he can hear the blood rushing in his ears.

Once she's close enough to touch, she leans forward, planting a kiss on the bridge of his nose and another one on his lips. Shikamaru isn't sure he knows how to breathe anymore.

“Lay down,” she whispers against his mouth. Numbly, he nods, sliding from the wall until he's laying underneath her, her hands and knees on either side of him. Freezing, he realizes he discarded the pillow as he was getting down, and now he's completely naked, underneath his very-much not interested lover.

Shikamaru scrambles to get up, to sit, to reach for the pillow, anything to stop this from ruining this moment, but Sakura gently grabs his wrist and brings it back next to his hip.

“It's okay,” Sakura assures him. “As long as we're not touching skin down there.” She gives him a genuine smile. “I want to show you, okay?”

He nods, the emotional whiplash having stunned him a little.

“I did a damn good job,” she says, nodding approvingly. The words take a bit to register, but he finds them so outrageously ridiculous he can't help but burst out laughing.

“Modest much?” he manages through bouts of breathless laughter.

“Shut up, you ungrateful beast. You have no idea the prowess of medicine I pulled off to give you this.”

He snorts, shaking his head in disbelief. “Hey, you won't see my complain,” he says, wiping tears from his flushed cheeks.

“Wanna touch?”

He looks at her, serious again, wondering exactly what she has in mind. Despite the laughter, and how good it feels to be able to relax when he's never been naked in front of anyone before, no matter the fact that he has an entirely different body than what he's used to, he still realizes that they're a minefield of catastrophes waiting to happen. He refuses to see this turn into a cause for grief or pain between them.

“I want to show you,” she says again, low, with something hot in her eyes that has him shivering almost unconsciously.

She reaches down, grabbing his left hand with her right, carefully balancing herself on her remaining hand and knees. Then she trails their combined hands along his hip, his groin, until her knuckles brush against this soft skin on the inside of his thigh. Without looking away from him, she laces their fingers together, squeezing once and smiling when he responds in kind. Releasing her grasp, she guides his hand and rests it right next to his erection, so close the tip of his fingers are brushing against his feverish skin.

“With me,” she whispers, before wrapping her hand around his cock. Just the grip is enough to draw a long, throaty moan out of him, throwing his head back against the sheets. Almost unconsciously, he follows her lead, putting his own fingers below hers when she begins to move up. The room is quiet, save for the groans he can't seem to control, discovering so much sensations he never experienced before.

He opens his eyes with difficulty, wanting to look at her when all he can think, all he can feel is her strong, callused hand on him, on the body she forged for him. The air is punched out of his lungs when he sees her eyes, unwavering, looking straight at him with blown-out pupils that leave almost nothing of the green left. Knowing she's able to enjoy this, to at least get something from this despite everything is one more hit on his heart, a punch of pleasure in his gut that leaves him shivering.

She leans down, kissing him hard and heavy, like a declaration, so Shikamaru closes his eyes and looses himself in it, in the feeling of her lips, of her hand, of her breasts pressed hard against his chest. As she deepens the kiss, her nipples brush against his and both moan in unison, the sounds mixing in the twist of their tongues and the space in between.

He can feel himself growing hotter, growing tenser. Sakura must feel it, because she shuffles a bit so her knees are closer to his ribs, allowing her to bend a bit and rest some of her weight on her lower legs so she can stop leaning on her left hand. Without stopping the kiss or the movement of her other hand, she reaches blindly for the side, finding the pillow with a hum of satisfaction that tingles his lips where they meet hers.

For one second, he opens his eyes, just in time to see her round her back, the shape of her body broad and unyielding in all her muscled glory. With the added space, she slips the pillow between them, resting it on his legs and on her right forearm. His quick mind provides an explanation that he barely needed in the first place but his curiosity is satisfied, so he closes his eyes and enjoys.

Sakura does something with her hand, a twist or a pull, _something_ that has him arching against the futon, almost sobbing from the electrifying bolt of pleasure. She tightens her grip and her thumb draws a pattern on the head, pressing once as she breaks the kiss, going straight for his neck where she licks a stripe from his jaw to his collarbone. He shouts, feeling like he's been slapped, and she does one, two, three quick, almost choking up-and-downs, his cock molten lava under her fingers.

Her breath is scalding against his throat, and as he feels like he's about to loose his mind, she stops moving her hand, a punched-out sob of overwhelming sensations leaving his mouth. He doesn't even have time to speak ; lightening fast, she begins moving again, her grip almost painful, sending his body into a seizure-state and as he feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, she bites down on the side of his neck, _hard_.

Shikamaru screams, his spine arching so hard it sends his upper body shooting up at lightening speed. Sakura reacts instantly, leaning back just enough to sit on the pillow placed between them and she catches him as he rams against her, wrapping her arms around him. He's shaking so hard he can't even return the embrace, teeth clicking together, feeling like nothing in his body is responding. She's rocking him, hands roaming over his back, drawing swirls and copies of equations on his skin he can't focus on, peppering kisses along his shoulder, over the sting of her bite, behind his ear.

Sakura keeps rocking him until his shaking calms a little, tremors coursing through his body like he's been shocked repeatedly. Shikamaru heaves shaking arms, feeling like they're made of stone, so he can painstakingly wrap them around her back, trying to decipher what she's writing on his back. He feels like his skin is on fire, everywhere she's not touching him.

Only when he begins to understand the maths does he realize he's crying silently, his face pressed against the wetness of his own tears. He can't help tensing up, a wave of shame washing over him as he slowly comprehends just how overwhelmed he is. Before he can even think of reacting in any way, his ears pick up something through the deafening rush of his blood.

Speechless, Shikamaru listens to the mantras of _I-love-you_ Sakura is singing against his hair.

After a long moment, as if time stopped just to give them this, Shikamaru stops shaking. Slowly, Sakura releases her hold on him, leaving him feeling cold and empty. He shivers again, this time from the uncomfortable feeling and the soreness in his abused muscles. Sakura scoots back a little on the pillow separating her from his lap, reaching back to grab the wool cover at the foot of their futon.

With gentle hands, she wraps it around his shoulders, pushing his chest slightly until his back touches the wall. Silently, she gets off of him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before getting up and disappearing in their washing room. He hears the shower running, then the door of the bath section sliding open. A second later, Sakura is back with a cloth, kneeling on the futon and scooting over to him.

Shikamaru watches her, still lost, confused, and feeling too overwhelmed for anything but numb silence. She removes the stained pillow from his lap and washes him quickly, discarding the cloth alongside the pillow and her underwear. Shuffling on her knees, she sits against the wall too, shifting until she's flushed against his side, ducking underneath the blanket with him.

More like a reflex than anything, he wraps an arm around her shoulders as she lays her head against his.

“You don't have to talk,” she murmurs. “I started a bath. If you want, you can go alone, or we can go together. We don't have to either, it's your choice. In any case, we're in no hurry. Everything is well, my love, so whatever is going on in that head of yours, I promise there's no reason to worry.”

He has to swallow, his throat dry. Blinking, unsure and still too numb to function, he manages to raise the fingers of the arm around Sakura's shoulders. Pinching a few strands of hair between his thumb and index, he tugs twice.

Sakura draws a surprised breath, before laughing silently.

“Of course, sweetheart, you'd be a genius even knocked out of your own mind.” She turns her head just enough to press a kiss on his temple. “We can work with that. How about we change two to mean I don't know, and three to mean no?”

Shikamaru tugs on her hair once. She nods, satisfied. “Are you okay?” Two tugs. “Alright.” Her left hand lands on his leg, going back and forth in a gentle caress. “Are you angry at me?” He tenses up, tugging three times in quick succession. “Well, that's a relief,” she huffs a laugh, but she sounds too sincere and it feels like someone kicked his heart through his ribcage.

“Do you want to take a bath with me?” A pause, then one tug. “Alright, up we go,” she says, too cheerful to be real and Shikamaru is beginning to despise whatever is happening to him, this- this unresponsiveness, this _uselessness_.

She helps him up, unwavering when he almost looses his balance and risks sending them both right back down. With an arm around his waist, she walks up to the washing room, sliding the door shut behind them. She looks at the shower and the little stool with a considering pause, before shaking her head. “We'll pass this time. And we're going together anyway, it doesn't matter if we leave the water dirty.” Silently, he agrees with her. Whatever is wrong with him, he doesn't think he could bear to sit down and rise again.

She left the door of the bath open, so they go in easily and Sakura helps them both down the three small underwater stairs and into the open bath. One of the perks of living in the land of water being the many streams and hot springs, and this being the home of a Hokage, it was connected to the nearest hot spring. On the wall is an opening in the stone, this side of the house being carved out of the mountain acting as a natural eastern wall, and the steaming water pours out of it.

Sakura leaves him sitting on one of the carved stone benches in the water and opens the faucet of cold water. Walking back to him, she gently takes one of his hands and puts it on her head, holding it until he takes a lock of hair. Then she kneels on the last step, taking his left foot and slowly beginning to massage it.

Shikamaru feels the air and tension drain out of him, until he manages to take a deep, calming breath. He closes his eyes, his fingers tightening slightly on her hair and he leans back, resting his head on the stone. _In. Out._

* * *

He only notices falling asleep as he wakes up. Senses on alert, as any time he opens his eyes since the war, he relaxes quickly once he realizes where he is. The water is hot on his skin, he feels worn out in a good way, and Sakura is nested against his chest, asleep with her head resting near his neck.

Shikamaru smiles, gently brushing a wet strand of hair plastered on her forehead. He kisses the crown of her head lightly, waking her up almost immediately, just how wary of sleep as he is.

“Good morning,” she says sleepily.

“Good morning, love.” He watches her blink a couple of time, looking at the sunrise through the window. “It's early,” she comments, yawning. “How are you feeling?”

He has to look down at his hands, the feeling of serenity replaced by a sense of burning shame as he recalls what happened, and his almost catatonic state. No matter that he isn't looking at her, he can almost _hear_ her squint at him, the disapproval pouring out of her every pore.

“Now I hope this isn't shame I feel oozing out of that defeated look, hum?” she says, saccarine sweet. “Because that would just be silly, right, to feel shame after being overwhelmed by nerves firing up for _literally the first time_.”

He looks up in surprise at her frowning face. “I- I didn't realize...”

“Of course you wouldn't, you're not a doctor. It's my fault for not thinking to explain this to you. I'm sorry, Shika.”

“Don't apologize, you did nothing wrong. How were you supposed to know I would be almost knocked out by an orgasm?”

“Because that used to be in my job description,” she sighs. “I guess becoming Hokage made me rusty.” She looks at him with an apologetic grimace. “I really am sorry. I didn't think it'd be that strong, but it makes complete sense. A combination of new nerve endings, new sensations and a probably intense wave of endorphins. That would knock out anyone.”

Shikamaru looks up at the ceiling, deciding he has no desire to detangle the mess of feelings he's dealing with right now.

“How about we drop this and go eat breakfast? I'm starving.”

It's like his words kicked the awkwardness and tension out of the room, because she gets a playful, teasing look on her face and she grins wide, leaning forward so she can brush her nose against his.

“You would, wouldn't you, you _beast.”_ His snort morphs into a burst of laughter as she exageratedly crosses her eyes, screaming and moaning in a high pitched voice, shouting his name like it's a profanity.

“Oh, yes, Shikamaru, yes! Harder, _Shikaaa_!”

He bends in half, his stomach hurting from how hard he's laughing. “Oh Kami, stop, haha!”

“Break me in half, yeeees!” she half-shouts, half-cries, climbing into his lap and kissing him lightening quick, then his cheeks, with the widest grin on her face.

“Fine, fine, I get it, woman! Let's go eat before my ravenous appetite switches to less clean ideas.”

Her giggles joins his as they haul themselves out of the bath, stumbling from how hard they're laughing. Out of the washing room and into their bedroom, they quickly wrap yukatas around themselves before Sakura starts chasing him all the way to the kitchen. She corners him against the counter and steals another twenty-something kisses, before he wraps his arms around her, drawing her into a bear hug.

“Thank you,” he whispers against her ear, delighting in the shiver it elicits from her. “For trusting me with your happiness and your safety, and trusting that I wouldn't abuse of it.”

“I'm happy to have shared this with you, Shikamaru. I won't do this every day, but this was precious and I'm honored to have been a part of this.”

He looks away, cheeks burning. “It's just sex,” he mumbles.

Like an echo of last night, she gives him a smile so full of love he feels his own heart bursting at the seams, and she says softly, “It's not, though.”


End file.
